


The Happiest Moment

by ajoy3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Light Angst, Pining Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajoy3/pseuds/ajoy3
Summary: Snape looks back on his happiest moment.
Relationships: Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	The Happiest Moment

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written for HP before, but this idea came into my head after two days of insomnia. Hope you like it!

The happiest moment

-Snape-

I drop the memory into the Pensieve, watching as the magic falls in tendrils, waiting. I’ve gone over this scene more times than I can count, but it’s important. I need to keep it fresh so that I can use it. It’s a familiar torture, a rabbit hole of what ifs, that takes an eternity of climb out of. I’m still crawling my way up.

We’re outside, books piled high on the side of us, and Lily is laughing at something I said. I’m not really the funny type, but Lily thinks I am. I painfully wish others found me as engaging as she did, but then again, I’m unsure if I’d want to spend time with anyone but her. I’m glad she finds my quip amusing; her eyes shine when she’s happy, even if they crinkle and disappear a bit from her smile. Even this I find endearing.

James and his band of thugs are there again, and ready to taunt their favorite past time. I’m not sure what I’ve done to get on their bad side, but the distaste is mutual. I can’t stand how arrogant Potter is, and thankfully, Lily is of the same mind. She’s not usually one to take such a hard stance against someone, but she seems to have made an exception for Potters troop. A small part of me believes it’s because of me.

I hate Potter for many reasons, but his ability to interfere when Lily and I are together is paramount. He’s always intruding on us, throwing insults my way, disturbing us no matter the time or place. Im starting to find that his presence is almost expected if I’m with her. It’s almost as if I’m the afterthought in his horrid visits. My mind moves to a dark place as I wonder if it’s really Lily he’s interested in.

I’m ready to face him, grasping for my wand, but Lily is three steps ahead of me, as usual. She’s pointing her wand with a steady hand, eyes narrowed in a way that I’m sure she thinks looks more menacing than it actually does. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, some asinine comments slipping between his teeth. He smirks, and he’s just looking at her. Lupin reminds Potter that practice starts soon, and the crew turns on their heels to head towards the field. As they walk off, Lily purses her lips together, trying to contain her anger. She whips towards me, asking if I can believe the nerve of them. She tells me they put her house to shame, she has half a mind to march straight to Dumbledore’s office and demand he takes action.

I tell Lily not to waste her breath, that people like Potter don’t deserve her attention, but she is silently fuming from the injustice. I never feel that it’s pity, she has too much respect for me than to do that; she’s angered that her friend was wronged, and I want to kiss her.

“You’re pretty when you’re angry,” I say. The words tumble out before I can stop them and I watch as her eyelashes flutter against her reddening cheeks. When others compliment her, she smiles, wide and all teeth, but when it comes from me, it seems shy, like it’s a secret smile just for her and It’s enough to stir Hope in my belly.

She’s smiling, and the sun is shining and I’ve taken this moment for granted a thousand times before. Not now though, not when she glances up at me, biting her lip to try and contain her happiness. One wouldn’t think she’s shy, this headstrong Gryffindor, but then again, most people don’t know her as well as I do.

“Only when I’m angry?” She asks, lifting her chin with confidence.

“All the time, really,” I say, as I shrug my shoulders, a gesture of confidence i certainly don’t feel. “But especially when you’re mad.”

Her brows shoot up at my admission, and her lip is back between her teeth. For a moment, I worry I’ve gone too far, pushed the boundary of our friendship too much. But I don’t want a friendship, I want to consume her. In my brooding, I don’t even realize she has stepped towards me, only when her hands settle on my shoulders and she places a quick and delicate kiss on my cheek does my brain seem to kick into gear. Quickly, far too for me to even react, she spins around, sitting back on the grass and opening a book.

“Now then,” she begins, and she’s refusing to make eye contact with me, and I’m nothing but smiles. “If we don’t finish this assignment we’re going to spend all weekend in the library. And I don’t particularly like to torture myself on my days off, Severus.” She finally looks my way, and I’m sure my heart has stopped, or maybe started beating double. It’s hard to tell when she smiles like that. “Besides, you promised to take me to Hogsmead. You still owe me a new sugar quill.” She points her finger at me for good measure.

I sit down beside her and nod. If we finish now, that means we’ll have more time together. I want to talk about the kiss, want to pull her to my chest and give her a proper one, but I can wait. We have time.

I raise myself from the Pensieve, gripping the stone edge. It jars me, even all these years later, what a fool I was. I thought there would be time, never thought I would act out the way I did. I want so badly to go back, to earn her attention again. My eyes begin to sting, and I screw them tight to stop the tears. In three short days from that time, I lose her. I don’t need the Pensieve for this memory. It’s ingrained in my soul.

I know what words are about to come out of my mouth. I know that when I say them, she never forgives me. I’m disgusted with myself even as the name slips off my tongue that day, but I’m too angry to stop. I’m angry at potter, for looking at her like she’s his, angry at his friends, for riling him up, taking their turns. Angry at Lily, that she’s always by my side, there to witness it. Angry at myself for being such an outsider that I’m a target.

It doesn’t matter how much I apologize. Days go by, and I beg and I plead, but she won’t answer me. The silent treatment from her might be worse than the cruciatus curse. I wait and I hope, but the damage is done, and I lose her. As our distance grows, I gain the attention of my fellow Slytherins, notably happy that I’m no longer associating with a Mudblood. Lily detests these people, those drawn to the dark arts. All the while I’m with them, I silently beg her to look at me, look at me, look at me. I’d leave them behind, if she’d ask.

But she doesn’t. Lily could have received an Outstanding in avoiding me. Occasionally, she would catch my eye, and Id hope, just for that minute. I want to apologize again, but I can see I’ve hurt her too deeply.

She befriends potter of all people, the brute easily taking my place as she marries him the moment we graduate and it eats away at my soul. The rest of the story spins before me, but at night, alone with my thoughts, I’m allowed to change the past.

I bite my tongue that day. Instead of spitting venom at the girl I love, I fire it at those who deserve it. I finally tell someone about Potter and his trio of brutes, and they’re threatened with expulsion, leaving Lily and I alone. I take her to Hogsmead that weekend, and I kiss her the way I’d been dreaming of for years. I never join the Death Eaters, instead taking up the Orders side. I have to protect her, my muggle-born wife. I can so clearly picture a small home for us, walls lined with books, a room for her to perfect potions, and a little girl that has her eyes.

My happiest moments are ones I never got to live.

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